


Soiled

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Blowjobs, Damian is of age, Facial, M/M, Slight Cum Play, TimKon is brief and mostly in passing only, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim's been away from Kon for two weeks, of course he's having dreams about him. He would expect that. But waking up to Damian in his room, with those intrigued and disgusted predator eyes- well, <i>that</i> was unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soiled

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you have a really long day, and just need some filthy smut to balance it out.
> 
> Damian is of age, probably like 18 or 19.

Tim threw his head back, hair splaying over the pillows as Kon moved between his thighs, trusting on the sweet side of rough, his fingers digging bruises into Tim’s pale thighs. Tim arched, his hands grabbing at the sheets, tugging on them, as Kon growled out his name, filling his body and igniting every nerve. Tim felt so _close_ , his cock aching, jostled by each thrust, smearing streaks of pre-cum all along his belly, flushed just as much as his cheeks. “Kon,” he groaned, feeling the first wave swelling, deep in his belly. “ _Kon_!”

The moment the name left his lips, Tim’s eyes shot open and he asked, his hips rocking up against his blankets. He was panting, swallowed, for a moment confused as to what was _happening_ \- until he realized his boyfriend wasn’t between, that he wasn’t even _with_ Kon, but home, at the Manor. He had been, for two weeks now.

He groaned, reaching his hands up to scrub along his face, tugging on his hair. He kicked the blankets off, ready to hook his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, take care of his aching erection before he was driven mad.

“You make a lot of noise, Drake.”

Tim jumped at that, nearly crawling out of his skin, pushing himself up and looking towards the foot of his bed. Damian was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, watching him with a bored expression.

“What the fuck,” Tim hissed, scrambling back so he was leaning into his pillows. “Damian get the _hell_ out.” How had the teen even gotten into his room? How had Tim _slept_ through it?

“Don’t look so shocked,” Damian offered, walking around the corner of the bed, along the side, “With all the noise you were making, the Joker could have broken in, laughing the whole time, and you would still be asleep.” Tim’s cheeks flushed, but he continued to glare at Damian, even as the teen sat down on his bed.

“I said _get out_.” Damian was the last person Tim wanted to deal with right now. He just wanted to get off and go back to _sleep_. He had worked the computers for the night, and had gotten the chance to turn in before Bruce and Damian had even returned from patrol. It _should_ have been nice, that extra bit of sleep.

Damian clicked his tongue, that annoyed _tt_ , and reached forward, hooking two fingers under the waistband of Tim’s underwear. Without warning or hesitation he tugged, until the fabric rested tightly at the base of Tim’s cock, which sprang free, flushed as Tim’s cheeks and leaking. Tim gasped, hips moving up slightly as the air settled around him.

“Damian, what the _fuck_ -“ Tim managed, before a hand wrapped around the base, stroking half way up the shaft. His words dissolved into a broken gasp, as Damian shifted closer, this time giving him a full stroke. Tim shuddered, shook his head in silent protest, but managed only a whine as this stroke had Damian dragging his thumb up along the underside of his cock, stopping to press against the bundle of nerves just under the head.

“Are you always this _wet_?” He asked, furrowing his brow at the copious amount of pre-cum that had leaked down Tim’s shaft, was coating his palm now. Tim bit his lip, eyes nearly rolling as Damian’s thumb massaged over that one spot. “Words, Drake.”

“Y-yeah,” he breathed, wondering, somewhere in his mind, why he hadn’t shoved Damian’s hand away yet. _Why the teen was touching him at all_.

Another click of his tongue. “You’re obscene, Drake.” He gave another full stroke, twisting his hand around the head, and Tim shuddered again, felt his belly clenching.

“S-stop,” he managed out, with no conviction behind it.

“What were you dreaming about?” Damian settled on a slow rhythm, enough to keep Tim panting, to keep his hips trying to move with that hand, but not throwing him over the edge. Tim bit his lip, worried the inside.

“Kon,” he breathed, “fucking me.” God why the _hell_ was he still talking, why was Damian’s hand so perfect- why the _hell_ was he letting this happen?

“Do you like getting _fucked_ , Drake?”

Tim groaned, tossing his head back. “Yes,” he hissed, “ _god yes_. Damian-“ he exhaled, another groan, “Damian _please_ , I’m right there.”

That didn’t at all sound like _no_ , or _stop_. And Tim missed that those thoughts had faded, until they were barely a background hum against the noise he was making.

Damian clicked his tongue again. “ _Already_? I should have known you would have no stamina, Drake.” Still, he tightened his fist, his other hand reaching down, grabbing at Tim’s underwear, tugging them down his thighs now, until Tim was squirming, managing to get out of them. The teen pulled his hand away from Tim’s cock, left the other man giving a loud whine, head falling back roughly in frustration as Damian’s wet fingers trailed along his thighs, over scars that broke smooth, pale skin.

Tim could barely think, barely see past the haze of desire. He was _so close_ that it hurt to have Damian’s hand gone. Damian seemed suddenly more interested in each line he found on Tim’s thighs, along his hips, tracing them until Tim felt tears rolling down his cheeks, his cock twitching every time Damian dragged his fingerpads along the old scars.

“Please,” he whimpered, “Damian _please_.” The teen glanced up at him, and Tim thought for a moment he wouldn’t touch him, that he’d continue his strange exploration of Tim’s scars, but leave his cock alone-

So when his hand did lift, wrap around it again, stroking, Tim could have cried- did, actually, the wet streaks on his cheeks renewing. Damian’s strokes were faster now, and Tim could barely think, breathe- anything, except form broken words like _fuck_ and _yes_ and _so-close_.

“You want to come, Drake?” Damian’s voice was almost gravely, from his chest, and Tim nodded, one hand reaching up to tug at his own hair, arching his shoulders back into the mattress as Damian’s thumb ran over the slick head of his cock. “Should I let you?”

“Yes, god yes, _please Damian_.” He didn’t slow his strokes, but Damian seemed to consider it, even as Tim felt his orgasm in his belly, _right there_ , the base of his spine tingling. Tim choked on his breath, “Please let me.”

Damian’s only response was to squeeze Tim’s cock tightly, once, before continuing his strokes, and barely a moment later Tim was screaming, arching his back fully off the bed as he came, thick pearly ropes painting up along his belly, dusting his ribs. The teen stroked him through it, watching with those bright blue eyes, until Tim was flat on the bed again, breath coming in rushed gasps.

Damian released his cock, reaching up to smear his fingers through one splash of cum, rubbing it into Tim’s skin. Tim felt his thighs tremble, felt _filthy_ , as Damian leaned over him. His other hand slipped back behind Tim’s neck, pulling him up, half cradling his head as he crashed their mouths together. Tim didn’t fight him, opened his mouth when Damian’s tongue pressed against it, let Damian explore him freely as he reached up with one hand, clutched at his tshirt weakly.

It was an easy kiss to fall into- Damian tasted faintly like tea, probably had been drinking some down in the cave, and the way he held Tim’s head was _almost_ tender, finger sinking into those obscenely soft locks. “Dami,” Tim murmured, into his mouth, sucked on his tongue gently, his other arm reaching up, falling across his shoulders, holding onto him loosely. He still had a hand on Tim’s body, still rubbing the now-cooling evidence of his orgasm into his skin, leaving Tim sticky, soiled, _violated_ and unable to care in the slightest.

When the kiss broke, Tim felt that hand pulling from his body, and without much thought he leaned in, mouthed at Damian’s neck- needed heat, skin, close contact. Always had, when coming down from his high. Damian gave a little _hum_ , as if he approved of the way Tim’s lips worked along his skin, the way he nuzzled into his neck, his cheeks still wet, spreading salt on skin that already tasted of it. Damian still smelled like the city, like the air, like sweat and his suit and whatever-the-hell was always underneath it all, his skin and soap. Tim inhaled and trembled.

Damian’s hand that had left his body had moved down his own, grabbing the hem of his sweat pants and tugging, until Tim felt the teen’s cock bob free, pressing up against his belly. Tim moved closer, trapping him, forced Damian to rut against him for friction as his teeth grazed his neck lazily.

“Drake,” he commanded, and Tim was pulling back, feeling his body go alight over the way Damian said his name. He had never had that reaction before, swore he had to be high at this point, under some sort of intoxication. Damian glanced down, between their bodies, and didn’t need to say a word, Tim was dropping down, one hand wrapping around his erection. He held the base in a firm grip, tongue lapping out over the head, teasing his slit before sliding to rub over the bundle of nerves just under the head.

Damian gritted his teeth, tipping his head back as Tim pushed his cock up, mouthed along the underside, his lips too soft, too wet. And when he pulled back, took Damian over his tongue without warning, the younger man let a groan rip from his throat, head tipping back down so he could _watch_. Watch the way Tim’s head bobbed, the way he took Damian in until he had only two fingers around the base of his cock

“ _Fuck_ Drake,” he breathed, as Tim’s other hand reached up, grabbed at his hip, thumb rubbing along the crease between his muscles, the _V_ that led down to his groin. Tim had to urge to rub his lips over every inch of muscle on Damian’s torso, over his abdomen, up his chest. But he didn’t want to pull away from his cock- nearly delirious over the way it was so hot and heavy on his tongue, the way his skin tasted, the salt of his pre-cum.

Somewhere in Tim’s mind, he might have wondered how long it had been since he’d sucked someone off- when had he last seen Kon, surely it had to be his last night at the tower. But all he took from that was a strange hunger, a need to have Damian bucking damn near into his throat, making those sweet throaty sounds he was sure the teen was capable of.

Moving his hand back so it pressed against Damian’s body, into the dusting of dark curls, he took him in until his nose was pressed between his own fingers, until Damn was nudging the back of his throat. The teen gave a groan, and then yes, _yes_ , a needy sound from the back of his throat as Tim did it again, swallowing so his throat muscles flexed just against the head of his cock.

Damian cursed- and vaguely, Tim realized it wasn’t even in English, the string of words that fell from his lips. He would have smiled, could he manage, and fell back, hand taking up stroking along the base of Damian’s cock again, following his mouth. He could feel Damian’s cock twitching, knew he was close, as he pressed his tongue up firmly against the underside of his cock, sucking gently when he reached the head.

The teen gave a shout then, and without warning, Tim felt his orgasm on his tongue, spilling hot and bitter- and then Damian was pulling from his lips, splashing them, his cheek- and Tim stroked his cock, encouraging him, feeling the sticky heat as it ran down one cheek, his chin.

He swallowed what was in his mouth, could have drawn a contrast between the way Kon tasted and Damian did, the way there was a spice to Damian that made him want to wrap his mouth around his cock until he was hard again, until he could have another taste.

Maybe that was still his desperation talking.

Tim had no idea at this point.

He caught Damian staring down at him, and licked his lips, saw Damian openly _shudder_ , and there was something so glorious about that.

“You’re filthy,” Damian finally breathed, and Tim gave him a smirk.

“Am I?” he leaned down, lapped at the head of Damian’s softening cock, watching his eyes nearly roll back from being overly-sensitive in his afterglow. “Do you like it?”

Damian’s hands clenched, once, and then he was moving off the bed, pulling the hem of his sweatpants back up, taking a brief moment to glance Tim over as he pushed himself up onto his knees, his sticky skin, the pearly smudges on his belly, his face. Then, without answering Tim, Damian clicked his tongue and hurried around the bed, leaving Tim’s room just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Tim was still for a moment, before he glanced down at himself. He ran a hand along his belly, grimaced because his semen had cooled, sticky, unpleasant, and knew he needed to drag himself to the shower now. Instead he raked his clean hand back through his hair, closing his eyes for a minute, trying to let whatever the _fuck_ had just happened sink in.

Damian had _definitely_ just jerked him off.

He’d definitely had Damian’s cock in his mouth.

And Kon was _sure as hell_ going to kill him.

Still, Tim licked his lips again, loving how Damian had looked at him, as if by _enjoying_ it, possibly just as much as the teen, Tim had stolen the control from him. And, oh he was sure he was crazy for this, and damned for sure- but the idea of seeing Damian like that again completely _thrilled him_.

**Author's Note:**

> Also yet another fic where I think _oh I could totally add more to this later_ , but will I really? _Will I_?


End file.
